AN: This episode doesn't fit sequentially with the others. It's a collection of shorter stories, just written for fun. I was saving this for a later post, but I'm posting it now instead because I'm putting this story on hiatus for a while until I can either a) come up with some really good pranks that I just can't avoid posting here (if you have any suggestions I'd love to hear them), and b) I have another funny story planned, and I want to focus on it for a while. I will return with more of these eventually, but I'd rather take an official break now before I get burnt out on writing them.

Episode VIII: Special Edition: Shorts

"A Watched Pot"

AN: Inspired by a review from "memyselfandi", who wanted to hit Belegdur over the head with Sam's frying pan.

The kitchen in Mirkwood was rather large...which made sense considering the number of elves who lived in the palace. Elladan was very pleased with the size of the kitchen, it made it very easy to find what he wanted.

He soon selected it; a pot large enough to fit Belegdur's overly-large head, and grabbed a wooden spoon to go with it.

Elladan didn't have much time. The delegates from Lothlorien were almost ready to convene the treaty discussion. For a moment, Elladan paused to wonder just how many treaties Mirkwood had with the various elven kingdoms of Middle-Earth. It seemed Thranduil was always holding some treaty negotiation...or maybe he only pretended to so he wouldn't have to deal with the sons of Elrond when they came to visit. Elladan shrugged. It didn't matter to him.

He didn't even bother to hide this time, merely waiting in the hall until Belegdur came down, notes in hand, not paying any attention.

With a war cry, Elladan leapt forward and shoved the pot over Belegdur's head, spun him around in a circle eight times, and hit the top of the pot two or three times with the wooden spoon. With another wordless shriek he yanked the pot off Belegdur's head and took off down the hallway, ducking around a corner to get out of sight before the prince's wits returned.

He glanced back around, stuffing a fist in his mouth to stifle his merriment.

Belegdur shook his head, trying to dispel the ringing in his ears, straightened the papers in his arms and walked forward—straight into the wall.

Elladan scuttled back down the hall, snickering all the way.

Some plans were just too easy.

"Belegdur Meets the Goblin King"

AN: Labyrinth is the property of Jim Henson

"If you don't back off I'll say the words!"

Belegdur stared at Elladan for a moment. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. "What words?"

Elladan glared at the blond elf. "You know...the words."

The prince sighed. "All I was saying is that he shouldn't wear the boots he trains in to dinner, it makes him appear too casual."

"You didn't have to call him a miserable excuse for a prince!" Elladan retorted.

"What would you know anyway?" Belegdur snarled. "You're just a miserable excuse for an elf, you and all your kind. When I think of the way you've corrupted my brother..."

"I'LL SAY THE WORDS!" Elladan shouted.

"Fine!" Belegdur shouted back. "Say them!"

Elladan glowered. "Goblin King! Goblin King! Wherever you may be! Come and take this miserable elf far away from me!" he shouted.

The two elves waited, but nothing happened. "Say the words," Belegdur scoffed. "What's next, are you going to go tell my father that I'm being mean to Legolas?"

The dark-haired elf just glared at the prince as he strode off down the hall. "I wish the goblins would take you away," he muttered. "Right now."

With a sudden poof Belegdur disappeared. Elladan stared for a moment, then started cackling maniacally. "It worked! Itworkeditworkeditworkeditworked!"

He laughed again, and proceeded to dance down the hall singing some inane song about dancing and voodoo under his breath, stopping to tell every elf he met that his plan had worked.

This lasted for about ten minutes, before there was another poof and a disoriented-looking Belegdur along with a bore a disgruntled expression. "Is this your elf?" the man asked coldly.

Elladan stopped short. "N-no," he stammered, suddenly afraid to be face-to-face with Jareth the Goblin King.

"Well, he says he belongs here. Someone wished him to my kingdom, but we couldn't stand him so you can have him back without going through the maze."

Weak-kneed, Elladan collapsed against the wall. "Th-thank you," he finally said.

Jareth disappeared with another poof, and Elladan buried his face in his hands and groaned.

Some plans were just too good to be true.

"The Room"

AN: Reference to Fear No Darknes in this one, and to the show Stargate: SG-1

Elladan was grumbling as he stomped down the hall toward his room (that is, the guestroom he and his brothers were sharing). Not only was Belegdur now suspicious that Legolas wasn't behind the "attacks", Elrohir was becoming suspicious that Elladan's "pranks" were actually of a more sinister nature.

The elf snorted. As if there was something sinister about rigging up a few buckets to drop three hundred vicious scorpions on Belegdur's bed while he was sleeping.

While he was stomping and grumbling, he was also trying to conjure a new Plan, one that would be acceptable to Elrohir yet leave Belegdur wondering who could be behind it all. So far he was having no luck.

Tie him to a tree in the forest? Spiders, wargs, or orcs would get him. Pack him in a barrel and send him off to Laketown? They'd send him right back. Lock him in the dungeons? Everyone would think that insane she-elf was back and lock Legolas in some unused wing of the palace with half the royal guard to protect him. Poison the wine? Elladan shook his head. He'd already tried that, and now Belegdur was suspicious enough to have someone else test his wine before he drank it.

He huffed out a sigh, pausing as he realized that he'd accidentally walked past the guest wing into a part of the palace he didn't remember. The only thing he could think of was to put on some horrible mask and jump out at Belegdur from behind every corner he could, in hopes of making the older prince so paranoid that he would never leave his room again.

Decided on his rather flimsy and ridiculous plan, Elladan turned to go back and found that he was lost. Well, the palace was rather large, so it was possible that he'd find a wing he didn't know.

There was a door next to him, and he could hear the babble of voices behind it, so he walked up to it, knocked three times, and pushed it open with a cheery expression on his face in hopes of getting directions from the elves within.

"Excuse me, could you..." the elf's voice trailed off, his eyes widening.

The room was much bigger on the inside than on the outside. It was steely gray, and he suddenly found himself facing about two dozen men (and was that a woman?) dressed in outlandish green-gray clothing, odd packs strapped to several of them and toting things that looked an awful lot like weapons. But the oddity that caught Elladan's eye the most was the large, glowing, vertical puddle in the center of the room.

He yelped, slamming the door shut and flinging himself away, heart pounding. When no one burst through the door to question him, he slowly crept up to it and opened it a crack, then flung it all the way open, his brow creasing in confusion.

It was a small, dusty study with a few odd tomes on the shelves. There was no sign of the outlandishly-dressed humans, the glowing circle thing, and the room was much smaller.

Elladan closed the door again, shaking his head in confusion. He thought about opening it to see if the other room was back, but decided against it and took a nearby chair to wedge the door closed.

Some things were better left unknown.

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